


mirror, mirror

by Sotong_sotong



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, First Meetings, M/M, Magic Mirrors, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7608502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotong_sotong/pseuds/Sotong_sotong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It sounds unlikely, but sometimes, just by the corner of his eyes, Akaashi thinks he sees flashes of grey and yellow, all muted hues swimming like koi fish on the surface of the full-length mirror in his room, but whenever he turns for a closer look, they disappear, and leave no trace of having been there at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mirror, mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arsenicjay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicjay/gifts).



> This was inspired by the Enid Blyton stories I had read as a kid, and I hope this is both in-character and enjoyable!

It sounds unlikely, but sometimes, just by the corner of his eyes, Akaashi thinks he sees flashes of grey and yellow, all muted hues swimming like koi fish on the surface of the full-length mirror in his room, but whenever he turns for a closer look, they disappear, and leave no trace of having been there at all.

The mirror is a heirloom from his grandmother, and she had been a distinguished lady in the works and meddling of magic; in hindsight, Akaashi supposes that inheriting an enchanted mirror from a witch is only to be expected, after all. Still, he himself has barely dipped his toes into the deep waters of wizardry, his heart always beating faster whenever the plumes of a potion he’s brewing waft past his cheeks, or when an incantation he recites sparks off just right, so it niggles at the back of his mind that although he knows something is up with the mirror, he can’t seem to put a finger on its secret due to his lack of expertise.

It’s slightly frustrating to be so close to what could be something special and yet know naught of it, but Akaashi continues to watch and wait, anyway.

Watching, waiting, quietly hoping the swirling colours will one day reveal their truth. 

 

*

 

One day, though, he finds the imprint of a hand on his mirror.

It definitely does not belong to Akaashi— his palm barely covers its width when he touches the imprint for comparison— and it can’t be the doing of anyone else in his family; they all know better than to enter Akaashi’s room during the week before All Hallow’s Eve, they’ll just walk into the various half-opened bundles of sweet grass, pearl powder, and star anise cluttered around.

So, who could have done this?

Akaashi taps the glass wonderingly.

And nearly jumps out of his skin when the mirror sounds a tap right back.

“Hello?” He greets carefully, and taps the mirror once again.

This time nothing happens. The glass innocently remains in silence.

Akaashi sighs, letting his shoulders slump, and turns away to resume writing a list of things he needs to purchase from the magic night market later.

(He just misses the sight of a boy, smile open and eyes bright, blooming on the mirror’s reflection for one short moment, but then, it’s gone, and the mirror is clear again.)

 

*

“Okaa-san,” he asks that night, “what do you know of Obaa-chan’s mirror?”

“Which one?” His mother pauses in the midst of spooning more horse radish essence into the small stock cauldron in their kitchen; Akaashi feels a bit bad for interrupting her as she prepares dinner. “Are you referring to the long mirror she gave you?”

“Yes, that one.” Akaashi nods. He helps her light up the stove as he waits for her answer.

“Ah, I don’t really remember much. Though, she did tell me before that the trick to it was not what’s behind the mirror, but what’s inside it instead.” She smiles ruefully and reaches out to pat Akaashi’s cheek. “I’m sorry that I can’t be of much more assistance.”

“It’s alright,” he quickly says. “I just wanted to try finding out more about it, that’s all.”

His mother tilts her head curiously, setting her stirring spoon down, and looks him straight in the eyes. “Do I have to be worried about this?”

“Not really, or rather…not yet?” Akaashi frowns; he honestly doesn’t know whether the mirror is bad news or not, though he highly doubts that his grandmother would have passed down anything so dangerous. He sighs again. “I don’t know, Okaa-san.”

She smiles at his frown, smoothing the furrows between his brows out by rubbing a finger against their middle. “Just be careful then, Keiji. Magic we have no knowledge of is always fond of surprising us when we least expect it to.”

(Later, Akaashi finds himself agreeing with her words to great vehemence, and to great exasperation as well.)

 

*

 

When he enters his room after having dinner, Akaashi almost walks right back out again because his mirror is _glowing_. 

It shines, illuminating every part of his room better than moonlight, and the colours he saw before are dancing across its surface, bursting and twirling, forming a constantly evolving Rorschach. It’s beautiful. Akaashi is unable to tear his eyes away; even when the shape of a human body starts to press against its surface, he only moves closer to press his fingers on the mirror.

The point of touch makes pools of light echo across the glass, and all too suddenly, it clears itself, revealing the image of a grinning boy. His hair is an unusual mix of white-grey streaks, and he bears the warmest pair of yellow eyes Akaashi has ever had the luck of coming across in person. Against all odds, one of the boy’s hand shoots out of the mirror, and grabs onto Akaashi’s.

The boy says, happily, “It’s nice to meet you again, Akaashi!”

Akaashi stares back dumbly before shaking off his hand. “Excuse me, how did your hand pass through the mirror?”

“It’s a matter of time and space and spatial laws and, and—,” here, the other boy pauses to think, “and magic, I think.”

“You think?” Akaashi repeats. Patiently. Trying not to lose his composure over the absurdity of his current situation despite living in a world ridden with the quirks of sorcery. “Also, how did you know my name?”

“That’s because we’ve met before! I’m Bokuto, remember?” _Bokuto_ smiles widely, and somehow, Akaashi slowly finds himself trusting this stranger. It’s uncanny how his presence doesn’t feel threatening to Akaashi at all, really. “Your grandmother introduced us.”

“Obaa-chan did?” He blinks, not expecting this information. “When?”

Bokuto laughs heartily, this time he steps through the glass, easily coming to a stop in front of Akaashi, and everything about him seems to fondly emanate _hello, it’s me, even if you don’t recall who I am just yet._ He bows, then, he speaks, “Let me introduce myself again: I’m Bokuto Koutarou, the guardian of this mirror, and we met when you were five.”

“Oh,” Akaashi says as he takes his hand for a friendly shake.

And, “Oh,” he says again when he realises Bokuto’s skin feels as cold as glass, thinks _maybe I’ve felt this before, a long, long time back_.

“Oh,” it remains as the faint memory of a rickety house with topsy turvy drawers and mirrors trickles into clarity, along with the rasp of Obaa-chan’s voice, and the sight of a boy emerging from the broken shards of a pocket mirror Akaashi had accidentally dropped, his movements rash but sure.

(Like a phoenix newly reincarnated, rising again.)

“With that said and done, I’ll now be in your care!” Bokuto grins even harder. “And I’ll take care of you too!”

Akaashi blinks. “Why?”

“Well, aren’t you my new owner now?” 

“I wasn’t aware of this arrangement until you mentioned it.”

Bokuto’s shoulders slump, face falling as he registers Akaashi’s words. Quietly, he answers, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that my last Mistress didn’t inform you about this.” He looks up with sadness written in his eyes. “Does this mean I’m not wanted by your family any longer?”

The thing about sincerity is it’s hard to refuse, it never asks for anything either, remaining as it is in the wake of everything; Akaashi closes his eyes, slowly saying, “It’s alright. I was just taken aback by this whole thing.” When he opens them again, he smiles, soft and true. “I’ll be in your care too then, Bokuto-san.”

(The excited yell that Bokuto lets out at this sends his whole family to his room, and well, Akaashi guesses there are worse things than explaining why there’s a boy in his room this late at night.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Concrits and comments are always welcomed :D


End file.
